#musings • and she's the kind of book that you can't put down.

[georgiewhitmcre]

tag drop!

[inn0cencestrained]

tag dump 4

[isabelarcmero]

tag drop!

[megamindsecretlair]

WIP Tuesday

Buckle up babes, it's going to be a long post!

I come before you humble, hat in hand. I know I been wilding ya'll. I know there's a lot of fics I need to update and get back to. I haven't forgotten! And since there are...so many new people thanks to my Terry fics, what a great time to call myself out chuz ya'll too nice to do so! I saw @nerdieforpedro do this a few weeks ago? Forgive me for not tagging the person you got it from, but I am tiredt, chilleee.

Current focus: Terry got my whole heart, ya'll. Every fic I read of him, I just want to go hop in the booth myself and get to writing. Ya'll inspire me every damn day, it's magical. There is a filthy, disgusting, mean, despicable fic I wanna write with him. But alas, he is not the only one I write for.

Girl, there's how many series????? Listen, the muse wants what it wants. 11 series in total. Chillee, why I do dissssss. Some are closer to finishing than others. So let's count them out (click the links to learn more):

Be My Little Darling - Loki series | It Started With a Whisper - Sam Wilson series | Midnight Sin - Vampire Tyrone series | Blackbird - Mob Boss Fontaine | Camp Wanderlust - Franklin Saint series | What You Deserve - Homewrecker Stunna | Runaway Lover - Professor Stunna | If I Took You Home - Kevin Atwater | Kill Her Softly - Zyair Malloy | A Taste of the Divine - Yakuza Sukuna | We Are the Night - Qimir

Frenn, that's a lot, do you sleep? Are you okay? Blink twice if you need help. I'm promise I'm good ya'll, I just love writing and I love interacting with ya'll. You have NO idea how much each and every single one of ya'll mean to me. I love the support, I love the comments, I love the reblogs. I'm trying not to disappoint folks, I was on a schedule and well, life happened. I can course correct, I promise. Just gon' take me a little minute. Let me close the smaller series first!

Okay, surely that's it right, frenn? Ahh no, because there's also the asks that have been piling up. Per my pinned post, you know that I have a scatterbrain. Some asks I deleted because they're too similar to what I've done before. Some I'm still trying to picture before I start writing. But the ones I've kept? At last tally it is...33. Some are similar and I'm going to combine them, but yeahhhhh. This isn't a callout post, keep sending those requests in! Just know it's gonna take me a smoooooooth minute. Also, welcome new people, welcome! But not everything needs a part two, I promise. If I write "The End" at the bottom, that truly means the end. No part 2 planned, ain't trynna write a part two. I want to move on sometimes. I love you, but I'll be writing until I'm gray if everything got a part 2. And I wanna get paid for my writing. Which brings me tooo...

Umm, umm, what's this I hear about a book??? Yes! I am actually writing a book based on an ask I received. It was a sweet ask about what kind of story would go with "Handwritten Letter". I said it gave friends to lovers, she fell first, he fell harder type of vibes. It has morphed into dark academia about a shy girl just trying to come into her own. It's a combo of and a love letter about girls like me, girls like you, each and every person who identifies as a Soft Black Girl. And I already have *so* many ideas about other books I want to do. There will be one based on the Mr. Black series I wrote. There will also be a vampire one! I just can't decide yet which will be the second book I put out. I'm leaning towards vampire because Terry is HEAVY on the brain ya'll. And he'd make a sexy vamp. But anywhooo...

I say all this to say that I'm not a machine. I'm not that quick despite appearances. I may not seem like I have any chill, but I've been fantasizing and turning over these fics in my head for days or weeks before I sit down to write. And I'm not saying to stop. Your support is exactly why I feel good enough about my writing to sit and write an entire book! I want to be a full time author. I want to share my ideas with the world. I'm just slow lmfaoooooo.

In the mean time, I hope you're hitting up all these amazing writers on here. I hope you're commenting and reblogging and showing love on here. I will keep saying it. This site will DIE and these BLACK writers will LEAVE if people keep stealing, not commenting, not reblogging, asking for part 2s and never showing love. Fandom is a community, not a pillar. No one know it's you behind that avatar, go crazy! Go nuts. Show nuts. whatever.

Love, love, love you all. If you read this far, drop something funny in the comments. Or go unhinged in my asks about Terry. Don't get me started about that man, but go awff about him because that's my baby favaaa.

no pressure tags: @chaos-4baby @j0kers-light @umber-cinders @harmshake @planetblaque @babybratzmaraj @soft-persephone

[gojosrighteyebrow69]

The Doctor's Vist

Gynecologist!Toji Fushiguro × Fem!Reader

SMUT 18+

Where you find yourself at the Gynecologist's office because of a 'problem'

🔞NSFW🔞-vaginal fingering,oral f!receiving,clit stimulation,age gap

"There's something wrong me, I can feel it"

"Well why do you think so? It's not that much of a big deal you know? Just use some toys or something" The brown haired girl replies while taking a sip of her coffee.

"I'm not using toys, what if they get stuck in there?" The thought does bring up curiosity in your mind, but it is overshadowed by the irrational fear of trying new things.

"They won't, trust me I've been using them since ages girl" Nobara chuckles and takes another sip of her coffee "I mean if you really think there's something wrong with you, you should go visit Megumi's dad. He's one of the best gynecologist in the whole city"

"Megumi's dad is a gynecologist?" You wondered why Megumi never told you that

"He is, you should go and see him just to be sure" Nobara says while unlocking her phone and doing something on it. "Here I booked you an appointment" She shows you the phone screen which says 'Appointment Confirmed'

"Let's see how it goes"

"You must be Megumi's friend. I'm doctor Fushiguro" The tall, buff dark haired man said. Your eyes widen upon seeing him and you could feel your cheeks burning. 'This is Megumi's Dad?' You wonder as you find yourself checking out the man in front of you. You felt your cheeks burn more as you started having many inappropriate thoughts about your friend's father.

"Y-Yes doctor, that's me" You replied, trying to maintain your composure while the handsome man in white coat wrote something on his clipboard.

"So what are your complaints princess?" You almost loose it the moment he says it.

"Doctor, I think there's something wrong with me" You try to think about ways to explain your situation in the most appropriate way without making a fool of yourself.

"And what might that be, my dear?" Toji asked with a soft grin, his hands resting on his desk.

"Well, how do I say this..." You are unable to put your situation in words and look down on your lap while blushing.

"Oh come on princess, there's no need to be shy you know?" He puts on of his hand on top of yours.

"Doctor I-I can't cum" You finally blurt it out and look away from him due to embarrassment.

"Hmm, that's interesting," he mused, his eyes twinkling with curiosity. "Tell me more about your symptoms and sexual experiences." He leaned forward slightly, his diamond jawline accentuating the movement.

"I had only be intimate with my ex boyfriend before, and he couldn't make me cum. I even tried masturbating but nothing works" You tried to explain your situation while blushing.

"I see" Toji responded, his gaze flickering over her body.

"Do you think there might be something wrong with me?" You ask while looking at the man infront.

"It's possible," he replied nonchalantly, his hands steepled together under his chin. "But first, we need to rule out any physical causes. Why don't you undress from the waist down and lie on the examination table?"

The thought of being naked in front of him brought of the feeling of desire as well as embarrassment, but you knew he was a professional and that was his job. So you nod and start to unzip your skirt. "Do I have to be fully naked?"

"Yes, please," he confirmed, his eyes not leaving her body for even a moment. "It's important for me to examine you thoroughly."

You take a deep breath and take of your panties, leaving your lower half fully exposed to Toji. You lay down on the examination table and spread your legs, wet folds fully on display for your friend's father.

"Now, let's begin" he said, his voice as smooth as silk. He leaned in closer, his face only inches away from your sensitive parts. "What kind of sensations do you feel when you're touched down here?"

"I have never really felt anything when my ex boyfriend touched me, he used to skip foreplay and go straight to the main thing. I've tried putting in a finger or two but I think my fingers are too small for me to feel anything"

"Hmm" he mused, reaching out to gently spread your folds apart. His fingers were big and strong, contrasting sharply with yours. "Let me show you something."

You find yourself biting your lower lip in anticipation. His thumb brushed lightly over your clit, feeling the hardened nub beneath his touch. The sensation was electric, a shockwave of pleasure coursing through your body. "This is what you've been missing," he whispered into your ear, his voice thick with satisfaction.

You could feel your body jerk with pleasure with just one touch

"You see?" This is how you should be touched princess" he said, his thumb massaging your clit while his other hand moved lower, teasing your opening with his fingers.

"D-Doctor it feels so good" The feeling of shame and embarrassment was slowly fading away as the man kept rubbing your clit

With a smirk, Toji continued to pleasure you, his fingers finding purchase inside you. His voice dropped lower, a husky whisper in your ear. "You know, you shouldn't be too shy. You can ask for more if you want."

"More doctor More! " You whined in pleasure as you started to feel a foreign sensation in your stomach.

Toji's fingers plunged deeper inside you as he picked up the pace, his thumb now rubbing against your G-spot in a rapid rhythm. "Let me show you what you've been missing sweetheart" He leans down and takes your clit in his mouth sucking hard. This caused you to let out another whine of pleasure with your back arching off the table

"Shh princess, you need to keep it down low. We wouldn't want the others to know about our special examination do we?" He speaks in a sultry tone while his tongue is licking and sucking all over your wet folds and his fingers keep going in an out

"That's it" he groaned, watching her body arch in pleasure. "Just like that princess" He says while sucking on your clit while his long, thick fingers plung deep inside your wet hole, brushing against your G spot making you see the stars.

That's when you felt the knot in your stomach snap. A feeling which you have never felt overtook your senses. Did Dr. Fushiguro really make you cum?

"I-I didn't knew I could do that Doctor" You looked at the man while trying to catch your breath

"That's because you've never been touched the right way, princess" he whispered, pulling his fingers out of you slowly. "You should ask for what you want, baby." His gaze held yours as he reached into his pocket and took out a business card.

"Thankyou Doctor" Your brain still couldn't comprehend what all just happened but you took the business card from him while your legs were still shaking.

"You're welcome, sweetheart. And remember, I'm always here to help." He gave you a wink before stepping out of the room, leaving you alone with your thoughts and the strange mix of emotions coursing throughout your body.

A/N: Thankyou so much for reading this. This is my first work so I hope you guys enjoyed it

[beybaldes]

and wouldn't you love to love her?

Warren Rojas x Fem!Reader

djats masterlist

Word Count : 2.1k

Summary : basically my fic they long to be (close to you) with a warren!ending. OR the one where Warren reveals he can't sleep without you anymore.

Warning!! I have not read the book or the show!!! All info I have gathered has been from other x readers I have read. sorry in advance if I have butchered your fav show/book because I have plainly made shit up in favour of satiating my own need for more warren fics xoxo

Moving to LA had been much more isolating then you'd ever thought it'd be. Sure, you'd moved with there with some of your closest friends, but it still felt harrowingly lonely compared to what you were used to in Pittsburgh. In your small hometown, everyone knew everyone, so wherever you went, you saw someone you knew - here, in LA, you felt lucky to accidentally make eye contact with a stranger on the street.

Warren was the number one person happy to fill the needed affection you often sought out since moving to LA. He, himself, was quite the lover - always one to take a cuddle and hold onto a hug for way longer then most would deem appropriate - which was exactly what you needed. The two of you had spent many nights in bed together in LA just for the company of it, and not that you didn't like it, you just wished it was with someone else, instead.

"You coming to bed, sweet girl?" Warren asked with a tired drawl to his words, extending a hand out to you while the other held the remainder of his joint to his lips.

"In a little." You hummed back, taking a hit out the joint he offered out to you, the joint being held to your lips by Warren instead of taking it into your own hands. "I'm not tired enough to sleep."

Warren pulled the joint back to his lips, his other hand coming to brush your hair out of your eyes and behind your ear, his hand resting against your hair and keeping you tucked in the crook of his neck. "You want me to wait up with you? Or you can come keep my company? I'll put on some Fleetwood Mac, it'll help you sleep, baby girl."

That was another thing that you missed about Pittsburgh; the constant nicknames you let the others call you. Back in Pittsburgh, everyone had some kind of name to call you except the one you were born with. Now? Karen called you sweet-pea, Eddie called you birdie, Camilla called you sunshine as did Graham and even Billy, but Warren? Warren called you whatever he liked; sweet girl, baby girl, baby, doll, his.

"No, it's okay Warren, you go to bed." Warren scooped you up in his arms, placing you down in the spot next to Graham who had already opened up his blanket for you, then pressed a kiss to your cheek. "I'll leave the door open for you."

You let your head fall to Graham's shoulder, who pulled his arm out from between the two of you and wrapped it over the back of the sofa. He allowed you to tangle your legs up in his pyjama covered ones, making sure you were comfortable before he turned his attention back to the tv screen.

"You and Warren are sleeping together?" Karen had been the one brave enough to ask, the conversation between the two of you not unnoticed by the rest of the group - it being the only thing to break the silence in the past 40 minutes. 

All heads turned to you, attention suddenly on something that had the potential to be more interesting then the rerun of Scooby-doo that had just started. "Not like that." You answered softly, eyes still focused on the cartoon dog and his gang on friends, not noticing how everyone else was now looking at you. "We both just like the company of it. I don't think either of us realised how lonely it would be coming out to LA."

"Cute." Camilla mused, a warm smile curling on her lips as she took in that even in your sleep you were reaching out for the touch and warmth of someone else.

"You're always welcome in my bed, sweet-pea." Karen added, a smile curling on her own lips as she managed to take your attention away from the tv. "I swear you run cold. Would be nice in the LA heat."

"You can't steal my blanket buddy." Graham gasped, pulling you tighter against him and furiously tucking the blanket around the two of you. "She's the perfect amount of cold. The windows open, with the blanket, with y/n is the perfect temperature for me."

"I'm going to have to pass on that one Karen, unless you want to come down to my room." You countered her offer with a soft smile, attention moving back to the tv once more. "Warren says your room is haunted."

Laughter spread through out the room as you sided with Warren even in his absence; he was so sweet to you, and that's what friends do, so how could you not?

"What?" You asked, laughing yourself. "We left it empty until your arrival for a reason." That caused another round of laughter to break out in the room, everyone enjoying the way the two of you were slowly but surely morphing into one person with the more time you spent confined in the LA rental.

A particularly loud shout of "scoob!" from the TV had everyone's attention turned back to the cartoon, letting the nature of your relationship with Warren lie for at least the time being.

By the end of the third episode, only you, Graham and Eddie remained in the room. Graham was fast asleep, his head leaning against yours making you trapped in his hold, and Eddie was sat in the armchair against the wall, legs curled into the seat and a bottle of warm beer in his hands that he'd been nursing for the last half an hour.

As the intro to the next rerun of Scooby-doo blasted from the TV, Graham startled awake, literally jumping out of his seat and pulling the blanket with him. He grumbled some attempt at what you thought was a goodnight, and stumbled sleepily out of the room, the warmth of him and the blanket leaving you alone on the couch.

Eddie got up from his seat without a word, joining you on the couch with his arm stretched over your shoulders and across the back of the couch cushions.

"I know you like him." Eddie teased, letting his arm fall around you and pull you into his side. He pulled the blanket off the back of the couch and placed it over the two of you, trying to keep you warm now that Graham had stolen your provisos blanket. "I can tell, I think we all can."

"Everyone except Warren, I guess." You complained, letting your head fall back against his shoulder, taking the warm beer he held in his hands and having a sip of it.

"He likes you too you know." Eddie laughed at the face of disbelief you pulled, taking the beer back from you to have another sip for himself. "All I'm saying is, you don't see me in his bed every night, and he likes me just fine."

You hummed into him, tucking your head away from the light of the tv screen, thinking about what Eddie was suggesting. His fingers moved to run through your hair, soothing you to sleep even if he hadn't meant to.

It wouldn't be the first time you had ended up in this predicament, you and Eddie cuddled up together on a couch in someone's living room, the night having gotten away from you. But it was the first time since coming to LA, the first time since you'd basically moved into Warren's bed, and if it weren't for the fact you were already half asleep, you would've felt sick about it.

Eddie wasn't far behind you when it came to falling asleep, his fingers shortly stilling and beer left half drank and held loosely between his fingers.

As people slowly began to filter into the living room the following morning, you made yourself plenty comfortable in Eddie's lap - instead of taking up the whole couch - allowing him to wrap an arm around your waist and hold you up and against him by your thighs. You lazily tuned into the conversation everyone else seemed to be having, mainly focused on eating the bowl of cereal Camilla had given you and the feeling of Eddie's fingers toying with the hem of your shorts. Picking up another spoonful of food, you offered him a mouthful, him taking it with a grateful smile.

"I thought you and Warren were sleeping together?" Billy asked, gesturing at you and Eddie with the tip of his spoon accusingly.

"And I thought we discussed this last night." You deflected with a shrug. Everyone apparently knew of your feelings for the curly haired brunette according to Eddie, but that didn't mean you had to admit them to them. It would only give them more ammunition to tease you with anyways. "Me and Ed's stayed out here last night, tried to stay up watching scooby-doo but failed, that's all."

"You and Ed's, huh." Graham asked, his eyebrow raised in suspicion.

"You're just jealous that she doesn't have a cute nickname for you." Eddie spat back, quickly coming to your defence as you offered him another bite of your cereal.

Scanning your eyes around the room, you took notice of the lack of a certain member of the sixes presence. "Where is Warren, actually?"

"Wouldn't you like to know?" Graham teased, earning a smack on the chest from Eddie who came to your defence as you left the room, leaving him with your cereal and an unusually rowdy Graham.

You crept into Warren's room, quiet as a mouse, hoping not to wake him up as you made your own way to bed. Despite your claim last night, you headed over first to the record player in the corner, pulling out your Fleetwood Mac vinyl and skipping to where Rhiannon should start. Turing the volume down enough that it wouldn't go outside the room but would reach you from Warren's bed. Cracking open the window just enough to let in a cool breeze, you finally got into what had become your side of Warren's bed.

No sooner then you'd lied down and turned on your side to slowly wake him, Warren was cosying himself into your side, nuzzling into your shoulder and wrapping his arm around you, intertwining your fingers.

"I didn't mean to wake you, m'sorry." You murmured, wiggling your arm out of his hold to wrap it over him, tangling your fingers in his mess of curls. You scratched gently at his scalp, Warren preening into your touch, yearning for it. "Well I did actually, but not like this, it's nearly 9."

"You didn't wake me, sweet girl." He purred, pressing a kiss, then another, then another to your shoulder. "Can't sleep without you, just been sat here all night trying to."

"Warren." You whined, shuffling to face him better at his confession. "You should've said so. I would've come with you when you first asked. You could've come to get me."

"I didn't want you to think I was needy." He whispered, avoiding your eyes as he busied himself in trying to get comfy now that you were in his arms again. "Plus, when I did come out to get you, you seemed pretty cosy with Eddie."

"We just fell asleep watching tv, that's all." You promised, feeling as a smile creeped onto Warren's face at your admission. "Nothing else. If I didn't have the blanket I would've come here, to you. I promise."

"You're here now, baby girl. That's all that matters to me." Warren was already dropping asleep, his need for it catching up quickly now that your presence was beside him, now that he was safe in your arms. "All that matters."

At your lack of response, Warren began to move, exhibiting the most life you'd seen in him since you'd walked into the room minutes ago. "C'mere hot stuff." Warren opened his arms to you, letting you shuffle down until your head rested against his chest and your arms were wrapped under his, going up his back and holding onto his shoulders from behind.

You gently scratched your fingers up and down his back, lulling him to sleep just as he was lulling you sleep with the soothing circles he was rubbing into your hip. You were quick to fall asleep again in his hold, as you did every night in Warren's bed, as did Warren, who, like he'd just admitted, couldn't sleep without you in his arms.

[lyonnerileyauthor]

hitting your writing goals

I've been getting a lot of asks lately about how I write, so I wanted to put it all in one post.

this was my writing history for Five Gifts for the Blacksmith's Wife.

it helps IMMENSELY when I go into a book with a Tumblr short to use as my outline. it gives me a sense of the mood, the characters, the central conflict, everything I need.

I rarely use outlines because most of the time, I have that base to work with. the other thing I do is WRITE A BLURB. write out what it would sound like if you were pitching someone your book.

here's the blurb for Five Gifts:

When her village faces a winter of starvation, Sita draws the shortest straw. Now she’s to be given to the orcs across the river in exchange for food and supplies so her family can survive. Given the chance to choose her own husband from among the eligible orc bachelors, she selects Gurrek, the reluctant blacksmith, who clearly doesn’t want her. He’s the safest option. Gurrek has always wanted a wife of his own, but not like this. Now he’s saddled with a human woman who needs new shoes, new clothes, and can’t even speak his language. He wants nothing to do with her, and yet her sweet, strong personality draws him in closer with every passing day. As Sita and Gurrek try to find a place to fit within each other’s lives, attraction begins to bloom between them. But Gurrek refuses to touch a woman who never wanted to be his in the first place. Can Sita break through the blacksmith’s high walls to become his true wife, mind, body, and soul?

boom! you know where it starts, what the central conflict is, and the question leading into the second half of the book. then I usually have a separate doc called "third act" where I work out what the climax and resolution will look like. this is sometimes when I'll write another little short to capture the tone and vibe of the climax.

okay so the writing part.

you can't wait for your muse to come to you. the more you wait, the less she visits. you have to go out there and chase that bitch down.

I show up almost every day to write. (I do take off days, usually to do admin or make videos.) I just eke out what words I can, even if it sucks ass. eventually, if you really just muscle it, let yourself get EXCITED about the characters and the story you want to tell, the words will start coming. but you can't do it if you don't show up.

I've also trained my brain in some very specific ways. making coffee is my "start" button. when I make coffee and sit down at the desk, I've trained my brain to say "okay writing time." I always make the coffee, then open the doc and write. no exceptions. it took a while to build the habit but now it's like pavlovian. sit down with coffee, write book. I've also adapted this to having a bubbly water or tea at night.

rolling the ball downhill

the goal is to get the ball rolling so the book starts writing itself. you know that feeling, the ZONE, where you know what's going to happen and it just streams out of you.

I use something I call the but-therefore method. stg learned it from a video by the South Park guys.

if you're reading your outline aloud to yourself and you say, "and then this happens," I often find myself running into that and being like "but what?"

every step in the outline should be a but or a therefore. the blacksmith wants a wife, but not this one (a human wife). therefore, he's mean to her because he wanted an orc wife. but, he finds himself growing fond of her because she tries so hard. therefore, he wants to court her. etc etc

this gets me out of all KINDS of pickles. when I run into a roadblock I just try to think of 1) what could get in the way of where they're headed or what they want, 2) what consequences it could have. good time to think about what your character's buttons are and what would push them.

setting goals

goals really help me push through when it's hard. I know it CAN be easy so it's like, how do I find the stream that I can get swept off in? you gotta hunt and hunt around for it sometimes and there are days when I never get into the zone.

I set a range for my daily goal, like 2500-5000. if I do 2500, that's fine, I can set it aside for the day. if I do 5000, keep pushing if I want but that's a good place to stop. I find that by 2000 words is when I know whether it's going to be a good writing day or a bad writing day. bad writing day, i can stop at 2500 and be happy. good writing day (especially toward the end of a book when the dominoes are falling over) I can get up to 8k, but I try not to do that anymore because it turns my brain to mush.

ok that's all for now I hope this was helpful :)

[iznsfw]

Perhaps it's only fate that you're the one to have caught the eyes of the three school belles.

Jang Wonyoung—young, rich, tall, beautiful are the words everyone use to describe her. After all, it's all part of her lifestyle as the rich chaebol daughter. However, you know one more adjective that's special to you only—bratty.

"Hi Daddy, I'm not wearing any underwear today. No bra, no panties, all bare underneath these pesky clothes right now. Can we skip classes, please? I'm so wet and needy for you already..."

Kim Gaeul—stern, composed, firm. It's in her to be like that—student council presidents aren't known to be lenient and kind anyway. However, she's got you wrapped around her finger(s) [and strap] every time you're alone with her—that's where she's very... kind to you.

"Mm, that's right, babygirl. Ride Mommy's strap just like that, suck Mommy's fingers just like that. God, you must've needed me so badly, hmm? So needy that you're already making a mess of my lap? It's a good thing Mommy likes you, babygirl. Now cum, cum for Mommy to watch."

An Yujin—cheerful, bubbly, and a joy to be with. It's her nature to be such an oversized puppy—"social butterfly" is what she is, and as your tutor, not only is she the saviour of your grades, she's always around to be a listening ear and a pick-me-up when you need it. However, here's the thing—you're her favourite tutee too, and it shows.

"Mm, fuck, honey, you're so wet already... fuck, it just excites me so much knowing that I make you drip like that. How does my tongue feel, honey? Do you like it when I eat your pussy? I can't wait until you're squirting all over my face, fuck..."

If all of them called you for a fuck on the same day, which of the three do you think you'd pick?

Or are you going to be naughty and book all three of them on the same day? Or worse... at the same time? ;)

Love you, dear.

So I finally got to this.

Wony, Yujin, and Gaeul are my triumvriate—I love them so much I'd crack my own neck if they told me to. But okay, I'll give you a run-down and ranking of who I choose:

1. Wonyoung

I'm a sucker for daddy kink and Wonyoung's whole self screams that she likes it, too. She's very charming, composed, and beautiful—and she knows it. So she likes to use it to her advantage to get what she wants: a punishment.

That's my favorite trope: the misattribution of control. That's why I write about it all the tine. I could be throwing Wonyoung around in the sheets thinking I'm in charge but really, she's the one who holds the reins.

Wonyoung, marry me. You may or may not be topping (heh) Gaeul in my IVE bias list

2. Gaeul

I'm a Gaeul stan before a human. The first IVE fic I wrote was about her. She takes a more submissive role in my fics (not for long...) but I honestly think she's a soft dom. If ever, she's the kind whose degradation is a little sweet-sounding.

I love the kind of woman who could just kill me. I hope—

3. Yujin

She's the muse for The Devil's Telephone obviously, and I love her. I could definitely hear that dialogue in her voice and it's so hot but I have to put her in third because she's up against Gaeul.

Maybe I'll take them both. Then Wonyoung for later. Best for last.

This Frisky GOAT level ask makes me want to yell. I love you, Sins.

:woman_bowing:

[shallyne]

The Sun and the Moon

Words: 500

“Do you think the moon and the sun are friends?” Feyre asked and with that question, she climbed on Nesta's bed without invitation, wriggling her too short legs until she fully managed to climb up.

“No,” Nesta simply replied, turning a page in her book. She didn't pay Feyre much mind, her little sister always asked endless questions, if they made sense or not. Today it seemed to not make any sense, except maybe in Feyre's curious mind.

Feyre slumped down right beside her, her childish gaze boring into Nesta as she asked, “Why not?”

Rolling her eyes, Nesta put a bookmark between the yellowed pages of her book and closed it. “They are polar opposites, they can't be friends.”

That seemed to make Feyre think, her small finger tapping against her chin until her focus was back on Nesta. “But why can't they be friends? Maybe it's the difference that makes them friends! They might complete each other, like two puzzle pieces.”

Fully annoyed now by Feyre's antics, Nesta stood and ushered her little sister to the door. “Shouldn't you be playing with your dolls instead of musing like a poet?”

“What dolls?”

Not even further contemplating what Feyre said, Nesta grabbed an old doll of hers and pushed it into Feyre's hands. Her door was closed before her little sister could utter another word.

Nesta opened Feyre's drawer of their old dresser, the one she had painted with the night sky. In hindsight, she was always meant to end up in the Night Court, ruling at Rhysand's side.

It's been over a year since Nesta went back to their little cottage that they had cramped in when they lost their fortune and it was hard, to say the least. All the memories, more bad than good, seem to press on her. Everything in here was as just as they left it, but more overgrown. There was also a hole in the roof now, making the ground underneath her feet brittle.

All of Feyre's clothes were still in her drawer, just as she left it before the beast, Tamlin, took her what felt like a lifetime ago. She didn't know why she pushed the few clothes to the side, maybe it was some kind of instinct to what she found there in the farthest corner, cramped far into the back.

A doll. Not just a doll, the doll Nesta has given her sister to leave. She didn't know that Feyre haf kept this doll, thought she had thrown it into some corner after returning to her room.

“What dolls?” echoed in Nesta's mind, in her sister's baby voice. Looking back, she never saw Feyre with any kind of dolls, or toys in general. She always made do with stuff she found outside, rocks, sticks, dirt. And just then it dawned on her that Nesta's doll was the only real toy Feyre ever had, before the circumstances took their childhood. And still Feyre had taken the doll with her.

Footsteps sounded behind Nesta and she looked back, finding Cassian in the doorway. He was so big that the cottage seemed even smaller around them, especially with the wings.

Pressing the doll to her chest, Nesta asked him, “Do you think the moon and the sun are friends?”

Confusion was written all over Cassian’s stupidly handsome face but he replied nonetheless, “I like to believe they are.”

[joelsgirl]

Love Thy Neighbor Pt. 1

Muse: Joel Miller Word Count: 2k Content Warnings: Age Gap, Size Difference, grief, parental loss, fluff, No Use of Y/N A/N: Set pre-outbreak, maybe a year or two before. Ambiguous timeline. A Gift For: @dreamsofmandalore - A little SJ for you. Thank you for being you. Happy Birthday, darling. + Want to see more? I’d love to see some requests, here!

The night should have been warm, beautiful, almost balmy. It was only the start of fall, things shouldn't have shifted so fast, yet no matter what you do, you can't seem to stop the chill, like it was deep in your bones, freezing you from the inside. Glancing around, you wonder if others can feel it too.

Everyone else seems to be fine, having a great time. The block party was being run by your best friend's mom. She and Lisa lived in the house down the end of your street. Her yard backed onto rolling hills, marking the edge of suburbia. This wasn't your scene, you weren't ever into parties, more of a homebody, really.

Even at college, you preferred late nights, the scent of dusty old books and the dim light of the libraries lamps. It's been six months since you graduated college, and it should have been the time of your life - out exploring the world, getting that high paying job you'd worked so hard for, living to the fullest, or whatever that means...

Losing your dad wasn't something on the cards. He was your best friend, the only family you had left... but fate was a cruel mistress. Moving back home after graduation was easy, sorting out the house and putting him to rest... was another thing entirely. Lisa had become your lifeline through it all... and though a season had passed, it wasn't any easier.

The din of the party was getting to you, the noise all too overwhelming. You were here for Lisa, wanting to enjoy the night as much as she was... but couldn't handle yet another concerned neighbor asking you how you were coping. Strolling down the back of her yard, your fingers trailing over the solid wooden posts of her fence until they reach the latch to the back gate. A quick check over your shoulder to make sure no one has noticed you before you slip out.

There's a small, narrow path that opens into a clearing. It takes you a minute to scan the canopy line before you find the treehouse your dad built for you and Lisa when you were kids. It's all so overgrown now but the steps to the ladder are still nailed into the large trunk. Testing the lowest one out with the toe of your ballet slippers, you climb up into the large space. He was a builder, a freelance contractor and this place had been your safe haven for so many years.

You hadn't visited in a while, but the interior was spotless. The walls painted a now faded burgundy, the window seat and sofa inside still clean and fresh. Lisa had mentioned coming by recently to tidy it up but she'd added some more knickknacks. This space had always felt like home, like a private solace, protecting you from the cruelty of the world below.

There was a desk against the far wall, a cupboard with books and a small coffee table in the center. Your dad had managed to hoist them up and set them inside. Climbing onto the soft cushion of the window seat, your back against the wall as you survey the clearing. Everything looks so small from this height, so insignificant.

The dark silhouette of another appears just below, so quiet you hadn't heard him coming... but you knew who it was, would recognize him anywhere. Your heart skipping a beat at the sight of him, idly wondering how he knew where to find you. "Hey..." His voice was low, sensual even from down there... at least to you. You bite back the grin wanting to take over as you nod to him, "Hey, yourself."

Joel had moved in to the house next door right around the time you graduated college. He had the stoic, single dad routine down pat; he was also kind, charming and seriously good looking. Everyone wanted a piece of him, but all he cared about was Sarah. His beautiful daughter, ten years old and sharp as a tack. She kept them both on their toes, that was for sure. Joel was a builder, just like her dad. Long hours and hard labour to provide the kind of like he thought she deserved. His brother Tommy would drop in on occasion, the genes ran in the family there... But Joel, he was something else.

"Mind if I come up?" You sit a little straighter, wishing there was a mirror nearby to check your reflection or something... "Sure!" He'd never been here before, but he knew about it. You told him when you were reminiscing about your dad shortly after... everything happened. Pulling yourself up from the window seat, you move to lift the latch, tugging open the trap door and helping him to pull himself up into the treehouse. "How'd you know I was here?" You ask, curiosity getting the better of you.

"Was watching you." There was something in his eyes. So dark, chocolate had nothing on them. So deep as he drank in the sight of you. That concern dancing behind his gaze melted you, the warmth in his tone something new, something you'd started picking up on more and more of late. "Saw you slip out the back... No one else noticed." He was standing so close, you could see the gold flecks and caramel highlights in those eyes from the fading glow of the sun's rays. "Oh?" You were normally such a conversationalist, but there was something so intense about him, you were suddenly lost for words.

"Yeah, you looked like you could use a friend. Didn't want you alone out here." He paused for a moment, his words sinking in before he broke that connection, shifting his focus to the treehouse. There was a ghost of a smile tugging at his lips as his hands slipped into his pockets, his leather jacket tightening around the thick muscle of his biceps. The black cotton shirt beneath it draped perfectly off the broad expanse of his chest, his black jeans almost faded. He walked around the room, eyeing off everything in the room before settling against the edge of the desk. "I see why you like it here so much."

There was something so surreal about having him here. He almost didn't belong. He towered over you, even like this. His body exuding nothing but strength and power as he filled the small space. Barely large enough for two little girls once upon a time, let alone him... The truth was, you'd been noticing the change in him because it mirrored the one in you. Thoughts of him always lingering in the back of your mind, afraid to look at them too closely.

"What are you really doing here?" Surprised he'd left the party, even though he hadn't brought Sarah with him this time. "I meant what I said; didn't want you alone out here." His voice was low, sweet like honey. It was one of your favorite things about him, the sound filling the space, tickling your skin as you bite back a smile. Your heart doing that thing it always does whenever he was involved; fritzing out as it fought to maintain some kind of regular rhythm.

You edge a little closer, half a step, then another. As if testing the waters. He knew it, too, a slight jerk of his head telling you to keep going until you were just within reach of him. A hand reaches out lazily, fingers hooking in the waistline of your mini skirt. Tugging you the rest of the way, until you were standing between his outstretch legs. Even though he's perched on the edge of the desk, he's still so much taller than you. His body so big, you wonder how it would feel to get lost in it. To have him wrap those arms around you and hold you until all your worries melt away. The rest of the world, too.

His hands slide down your sides, settling on your waist as he holds you tightly. Your cheeks feel warm, a soft flush coloring them as tingles rush down your spine. "Been thinking about this for a while..." God, that voice. He could bring a civilization down to it's knees with that thing. At least, he could, you. "Thinking about what, exactly?" You can barely get your words out, the sound a soft murmur as your breath catches... The way he's looking at you right now, the world really was melting around you. Nothing else mattered but him. Right there. If only you could freeze that moment...

His eyes flicker to your lips, to the way you're biting the lower one. The usually stoic façade gone, replaced by a hunger you'd never noticed before. One hand leaves your waist to cup your face. Thumb locking on your jaw as strong fingers grip the back of your neck, holding you in place as he dips his head, his lips finding yours in a hard kiss. Your palms find his chest, pressing against them as you deepen the kiss.

Your mind flashing to all those late nights at home, crying as you try to pick up the pieces of your life, only to look up and find Joel right there with you. Holding you, helping you, a support like no other. He'd always been right by your side, had been the one for you long before you were willing to admit it to yourself...

All the unspoken emotion pouring out between you as the hand still resting on your waist tightens its grip, pulling you harder against him, as if letting you go would mean losing you and he couldn't possibly bare the thought of it. It felt like an eternity and a single moment all at once when he finally broke away. Pressing a kiss to your forehead before looking in your eyes once again, his thumb brushing your lower lip as a smile tugged at his own. "This, right here... you... I can't get you out of my head."

You open your mouth to say something when his phone goes off, the buzz in his pocket pulling him away. The apologetic look on his face as he tugs it out entirely unnecessary, he hated the damn thing, kept it for two reasons. Sarah and Tommy. "It's okay," you say as soon as he puts it away, knowing real life was calling him away...

"It's Sarah, there's a crisis at home, something about a missing textbook and needing to finish her homework. Honestly couldn't tell you where she gets those brains from." The sheepish smile was back on those perfect lips and you can't help but ball his shirt in a small fist as you tug him back down for another kiss. A short one, but enough to tell him you're not going anywhere. You walk down together, away from the party, a shortcut to the main road leading you both back to your driveway. He lives next door, but your house is first and he takes a moment to step away... those perfect eyes lingering on you.

"Can I call you, later tonight?" The smile on your face the only answer he needs as he nods, watching until you're safely up the driveway and inside your house before making his way to his girl. You pause, your back leaning against the door as your fingers lift to press idly against your lips, thinking about the way he kissed you, about him... Fishing your phone out of your pocket and clutching it to your chest as you make your way upstairs, counting down the minutes until you could hear that voice again...

TAG LIST: @dreamsofmandalore @devilmademewriteit @devilmademepostit @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @pedro-pedrito-pascalito >>> If you'd like to be tagged in this series or any other fics, please let me know!

[the-letterbox-archives]

What's up friend!!!!

I would love some rambles about Tales From A Dying Heart if you're down for it???

Also, love your blog <3

file (1)1-21-0610: ask response

thank you honeybe <3, i'd love to give a ramble about tfadh!!

i'm not sure how much i can go on about without spoiling, since the books aren't out yet, but i think i can talk about what i've found of the characters!

i mentioned this in a previous ask, but since the heart itself is the narrator of the stories, and it hates human love as it believes it obstructs its creations from happiness. so in order to strip the protagonists of the impact their love leaves on their identities, the heart gives them false names related to other aspects of their lives (this in tandem with the memory deterioration makes it so the people, if they were ever recovered, have no semblance of their past lives and their capacity for love). i'll give a quick preamble about all the protagonists' false names.

book 1: lady (a tortured heart)

lady's name comes from the title of 'lady,' quite a high position in medieval europe, where this world is slightly based on (but there's not much content there because the story is about the heart and these guys, not their world). lady has faced many hardships, but something she was always able to hold onto was her title; something the heart remembered.

book 2: sweetheart & crow (a dedicated heart)

sweetheart and crow's names come from the heart doing word association with their personalities; 'sweetheart' being chosen because she is a... well, a sweetheart. simply put, she's a very kind person, beloved by all (the heart is not very creative). crow is named after the bird, because crows are considered smart (by bird standards), something that reflects crow's personality as well.

book 3: winter & pyre (a distant heart)

winter and pyre are unique protagonists (though i won't say why yet), and their names are inspired by the two opposite temperatures/seasons; winter being named after the winter season, coldness, and natural disasters that occur in the cold like blizzards and snowstorms, and pyre being named after summer, warm temps, and natural disasters like wildfires and droughts.

book 4: dancer (a free heart)

dancer is named after her occupation, kind of. when she was in better health, she loved to dance, and it was integral to her identity. as her condition worsened, she couldn't dance anymore, but the heart took pity on her and bestowed her a name to reference her best days.

book 5: rook (a cautious heart)

rook is a bit far fetched, i liked the name as-is and had to work backwards with the meaning. in chess, the rook moves in a straight line, and is also sometimes referred to as a tower, elements i associate with strength of character. this is completely paradoxical to rook as he is known in the story, but it holds some meaning in his past life, when he was more self-assured.

book 6: vex (a vengeful heart)

vex's name comes from the word vex, moreso in relation to the term 'vexed,' which can't really encompass all the rage that defines her, but is a solid stab at it. to be fair, there's no single word to adequately describe vex's anger and suffering. the heart tried nonetheless.

book 7: chalice & hunter (a desperate heart)

i've already done a bit on chalice, so i'll just restate that: the heart recognises chalice as a prince, fond of wine and gold, describing chalice's ring's as "golden palms," focusing chalice's identity on his rich, royal status, using his expensive items as the cornerstone of his existence. as for hunter, he's named after his job, he's a bounty hunter and also hunts for food. this still places him below chalice socially, since he's just a hunter and chalice is a prince.

book 8: hornet & dove (a lingering heart)

hornet and dove are named after those animals. the violent, stinging hornet paired with the gentle, peaceful dove. a true match made in hell, and representative of their personalities outside their relationship.

book 9: maestro & muse (an artful heart)

maestro's name comes from the word 'maestro,' meaning an artistic master (usually in a classical music context, but this maestro is related to painting), and muse's name from the word 'muse,' simply a source of inspiration. these names serve to describe their relationship, but it is also effective apart; maestro is obsessed with artistry and being the best, and muse is often just a subject, not a creative herself.

book 10: opal (a defenseless heart)

for opal's name, i searched for pretty, valuable gemstones, and was drawn to the black opal. in the story, opal is often a commodity for others, so that ties in well to the gemstone name.

book 11: aegis & mouse (a protective heart)

aegis' name comes from the word 'aegis,' and describes how he protects his sister (and less often, himself) from harm, being the older sibling and the de-facto responsible one. mouse's name comes less from the stereotypical timid nature of mice (symbolically), but more how small and agile mice are, how they tend to slip through the cracks and go to places they're not supposed to be in, like mouse herself.

book 12: seeker (an honest heart)

seeker's name comes from her role in the heart; she's 'seeking' the truth, 'seeking' those who've been lost, 'seeking' a new life for everyone, without the heart's presence. the heart does not respect seeker enough to grant her a name that honours her past life.

[inn0cencestrained]

Tag Dump 2

[edotvie]

Technically Part 2 of this but you don't need to read the first part WARNING: BG3 post-game spoilers! WARNING: Sexual content The lock turned with a familiar 'click' before the door creaked open. Tav pushed it with her shoulder, her attention on the bags and basket in her arms. She shuffled her hold on them, careful not to drop any of the items she'd spent the evening purchasing.

"I'm home!" she called despite the obvious ruckus she was making. The response came first in the form of a little hum of acknowledgement.

"Welcome back, my love. Let me help you with that." Astarion appeared from the kitchen of their little apartment, moving to take one of Tav's bags and free her arm.

"Thank you-"

Tav's words faced a wall of soft lips pressing against her own, if only for a beat, and Astarion pulled back with a smile.

"It's my pleasure," he purred, the tone alone bringing some heat to her face, "How was your outing?"

"Good. I got enough supplies to last us a few days. Oh, and the paper for today."

After delivering the goods onto a table in the kitchen, Tav returned to lock the door after herself. She could hear Astarion rummaging through the paper bags before returning to him.

"Did you get the good soap, like I asked?" he asked casually.

"Yes. It's in there. The people in the Upper City looked at me down their noses, by the way."

Astarion smirked.

"Ah, the dangers you face for my sake. The adventures of 'Yarkona the Courageous' never end! Our dear friend Volo is still working on that book, isn't he?"

Tav shook her head, electing not to answer, and grabbed another bag to pull out the fish and meat she'd purchased in order to store it. Meat was fickle and needed to be put away before it could spoil.

"You should consider bringing it in fresh, Darling. That way the both of us could enjoy the same dinner," stated Astarion in a playful tone. Tav rolled her eyes despite her smile.

"There's not exactly a great amount of prey in a city. At least, not the kind I'd agree to eat," she stated with a quirked brow. Astarion chuckled.

"Don't knock it 'til you try it, Love. The taste of an aberrant criminal can be quite... Addicting," he mused, darkened eyes quickly scanning Tav's frame, "Though, not quite as addicting as the treat I already have under my roof."

She couldn't help but let out a laugh. It was clear Astarion was in a good mood, and whenever he was, it was infectious.

"Is that a request for blood or sex?" she teased back, her head tilting and shoulders pulling to the front instinctively, as if to make herself more alluring. She didn't miss the way Astarion focused on her, his attention flicking across the shifting landscape of her appearance.

"Honestly, can't I lather compliments on my gorgeous lover without an ulterior motive? You hurt me," he purred without missing a beat, his smirk an obvious tell of his amusement.

"If that's all you wanted, feel free to keep going," Tav stated easily, turning to place fruits and vegetables into two baskets she had on the counter. She felt him move closer, now a blurry shape right at the edge of her vision.

"I can feel the way your heart is beating. Your body is already begging for me to pin you down and have my way with you," came the low voice she already knew to expect. Astarion's cool hand came to her chin, a single finger lifting it so her eyes would meet his. The hunger present in them created a pleasant knot in Tav's stomach.

"Mm, if you could see your face right now. Your eyes are like morning mist on a summer day, hazy with desire. The way that lovely red covers the shining copper of your skin with the slightest of touches," he continued, his hand moving to brush back some of the loose strands of hair framing Tav's face. The touch was so light it may have as well been done with a feather, causing a pleasant ticklish sensation. Her breath came out with a barely-there tremble.

"You just don't disappoint, do you?" she answered breathlessly, a smile tugging her lips, "You could sell me sand on the desert and I wouldn't question it once."

"As much as I enjoy hearing you sing my praises, you do make it easy. You're a phenomenal subject for flattery, of course, but also quite easy to please."

"I'm taking that as a good thing," Tav stated playfully, "But even so, I wouldn't react this way if it wasn't you weaving that poetry. I could-" she sighed, "I could listen to you recite the dictionary for a whole afternoon and be satisfied."

"Darling, I can do much better than the dictionary," Astarion stated, almost offended, and stepped all the way into Tav's personal space, "But right now I'd rather hear you recite pretty nonsense beneath me."

Before he was finished with his statement, Astarion's arms had snaked into a convenient grip around Tav. He lifted her into the air and against himself. Her ankles quickly linked around the Vampire before their lips connected in a passionate kiss.

The path into the bedroom wasn't long, but it was still awkward with an entire Wood Elf in his arms. Astarion released one hand from her thigh, albeit reluctantly, to use as his eyes while he fumbled through the doorframe. The journey was made all the more perilous by the continuous touching of their lips, hungry and needy with neither daring to pull away. When they eventually made it to the bed, they moreso ran into it rather than climbed on, falling into a mess of limbs and breathy moans as they went to shed each other of their suddenly bothersome layers of clothing.

Most of their good days were like this, had been ever since the Netherbrain was defeated. Not only had Astarion recently reclaimed sex as something he enjoyed, but the longest chunk of any day he had to spent cooped up indoors. With all that extra energy, it tended to be channeled toward his very willing partner every time they were in each other's reach. Which happened to be often, considering they shared a home. Most surfaces in the apartment had already been claimed for love-making, once or twice at the threat of the entire place burning down.

The surfaces where there was room were all covered in light sources, usually candles. That, and the occasional spell, kept the apartment as well lit as possible since the shining of the sun was no longer an option. The windows were covered with thick curtains, at least two over each to make sure light didn't breach them. Still, Tav was determined to keep color in Astarion's daily life, considering how obvious it was he missed it. In time, when they finally got an inkling of where to start, they'd graduate to sunlight. Or so she wished with all her heart.

The room previously filled with moans and creaks of a bedframe settled into a warm afterglow. Tav caught her breath where she laid on the sheets, beads of shining sweat decorating her skin like fine pearls. Astarion stretched out like a happy cat, resting on his stomach with his head pillowed in his arms. A smile still lingered on his lips while he enjoyed the sight of his spent lover.

"Well. That was fun," he stated, reaching out to toy with the end of Tav's long braid, "Though I didn't mean to wear you out completely, Darling. I could personally go for another round."

Tav laughed softly, shifting onto her side to face her partner.

"Give me a minute, my love. I'll bounce back," she countered lightly, "I was just out for hours, you know."

"Yes, I know. I missed you, if that wasn't painfully obvious."

Conflicted emotions surfaced at the admission, Tav's smile turning tight. She hated that she was the only real source of entertainment for Astarion. It was better than being forced to spend his nights unwillingly bedding strangers or being tortured, but it wasn't ideal. If it went on for too long, Astarion would begin to resent her instead of bathing her in affection each night. Not to mention the pressure this arrangement put on her to remain entertaining.

"I saw Blurg, by the way," she stated unbidden, placing her hand over Astarion's where it played with her.

"I know for a fact that isn't your usual idea of pillow talk," mused Astarion, his brow raised in curiosity. He turned his palm up and their fingers interlaced naturally. Tav chuckled.

"He was doing some experimentation on one of the... Dead tadpoles," Tav stated uneasily. Astarion picked up on this and squeezed her hand.

"And?"

"And... I don't know, I kind of spaced out after I saw the thing," she laughed, nervous, "It's so big when you think about how it... Goes into your eye, right? Disgusting."

"Yes, thank you, I don't need a reminder," Astarion stated, at least as squeamish about the experience as Tav was, "But I suspect you have a reason for bringing this up."

She blinked back into the present, the brief haze in her eyes gone.

"Not the worm thing, really. But we talked, after. I wanted to see if I could recruit his help."

Astarion perked up, lifting himself up halfway on his arms.

"Well, knowledge from the Underdark could come in handy, I suppose. While I'm not a fan, I can see the appeal it might hold for another Vampire. Who knows? Maybe there's answers there."

"That's what I thought. He said he'll look into things for us, which was sweet. Actually--"

Tav paused, an uncertain look crossing her face. Astarion felt it his cue to shuffle closer and let go of her hand to instead cup her jaw. A kiss was all it took to soften her expression.

"He said something that I thought was interesting. It could be nothing. But on the off chance that it is..."

"Oh, for gods sakes. Don't keep me in suspense, Dear. We've already been reading through a hundred books. I realize that's not much when we're looking for a needle in a haystack, but I'm tired of this pointless search. It would be nice to get a little lucky."

When Tav gave him an amused look, Astarion rushed to continue.

"In more ways than one," he purred, then leaned in to kiss her neck. Tav instinctively tilted her head to the side and let out a soft breath, the feeling of Astarion's lips trailing over her skin quite distracting.

"He, uh... He had this ring," she sighed, the kisses trailing lower down the center of her chest. He gently pushed her shoulder until Tav was laying on her back for better access.

"Silver, with a... Bright ruby on the center. Astarion," she moaned. Astarion's arm had snaked around her thigh while he sucked gently on the skin on the inner side. He raised his head with a mischievous hum and tilted his head, those white curls tickling her already sensitive skin.

"It's hard to talk when you're doing, well, that," Tav breathed. He chuckled low in return.

"And here I thought you enjoyed a challenge. Go on, pretty thing. Keep talking..."

She couldn't bear the distraction of both watching Astarion and feeling what he was doing. So she laid her head back onto the pillow, biting her lip to keep from voicing just how much she was enjoying herself.

"It was, it, uh..." she paused to swallow, hoping her voice wouldn't tremble the next time, "He called it 'Sunwalker's Gift.'"

Astarion's head lifted from where he'd focused his attention. Tav took the opportunity to breathe freely, rising onto her elbows to meet his eyes.

"It grants the wearer darkvision," she explained. Astarion frowned.

"Darling, we're Elves."

"I'm aware, thank you," she laughed, running her hand through his hair. Astarion climbed up Tav's body to rest his head against her shoulder.

"Apparently it's related to another piece of jewellery. He couldn't remember it in detail, but... I thought it was interesting. Maybe that other trinket could have a power related to the Sun, or darkness, somehow. That's the thought that crossed my mind, anyway."

She lowered her chin to meet Astarion's eyes. The uncertainty was back. She was scared to promise so much to him based on so little, but it could be a lead. If there was a magic ring, earring or necklace that could solve their problems, it was worth looking into.

"Hmm."

The response was lacking. Though it had initially unsettled her when Astarion suddenly went quiet, she now knew his silence to mean he needed to think. She decided to spend the time laying little kisses on the top of his head, her arm wrapping around his pale shoulders.

After a short time she was rewarded, his attention back on her. The Elf angled his chin so the next time Tav leaned in, their lips met. Astarion shifted until he was hovering over her, his red, pretty eyes half lidded.

"Well, it's something to look into. Thank you for telling me." Hips lips brushed against hers, parted, not quite a kiss. It had her heart skipping a beat all the same.

"It seems you still have something else on your mind," Tav teased, one of her knees rising to meet his interest. He sighed in response, landing another open mouthed kiss.

"I do," he admitted, sighing a second time when his lover shifted her leg, "But not just that."

Getting off her for now, Astarion sat up on his side of the bed. She followed his example, though brought some of their silky cover with her. Her love was very particular about the materials of their beddings - really anything they could afford to spend a little extra coin on. Which wasn't much, but she liked making him happy.

"I want to take you out. Find a nice place with music and drinks. Take a break from the libraries and the, quite frankly, dull time I have sitting at home by myself. Who knows? If you get me tipsy, maybe I'll even spin you across the dance floor."

A fondness swelled within Tav's chest that bled right into her expression. She placed her hand over Astarion's and squeezed it.

"Are you sure?"

Diving into the nightlife of Baldur's Gate seemed a double edged sword. So far it had been something Astarion dreaded to face again lest it set him off.

"Yes. I think it's about time I start rewriting those memories with better ones. Ones with someone I love, rather than whoever I had to seduce into Cazador's dungeon."

Tav cupped his face, pulling Astarion closer to brush her nose against his. He suppressed a laugh at the sentimental action, willing down the barrier he was subconsciously putting up. The conflict still had him averting his eyes.

"What do you say? Will you wear that delectable green dress you had on the other night?"

Her eyes widened briefly, followed by a bright smile.

"Oh, when they graciously awarded each of us with 5000 gold for saving the city?" she joked, "I didn't know you liked it that much."

"I was quite upset they wouldn't leave Karlach and Wyll's portions with us. For safekeeping! Aren't we the trusthworthy, brave heroes?" Astarion countered, "As for the dress. Darling, have you seen yourself? Most things look amazing on you. And off you."

Tav pursed her lips in amusement.

"You know that was an easy one."

"Yes," mused Astarion, placing his hands on her shoulders. He pulled her closer, kissing the space between her eyebrows. The next one was laid on her nose. Before he could get to her lips, Tav leaned in and completed the process for him. A little smirk and kisses that trailed to his ear were followed with shoving Astarion down into the beddings this time. She settled over him and dragged her teeth over his bottom lip, earning herself a groan.

"We're not in a hurry yet, are we?" she hummed, leaving Astarion just enough space to pull her back into him. They devolved into sighs and shuffling of sheets. Yes, they had their troubles. But just for the moment, those could wait, drowned in the desires of new love. Part 2 will appear at some point

[brightbeautifulthings]

Katzenjammer by Francesca Zappia

"They're all so dark, Dad said one day, watching over my shoulder as I worked at the kitchen table. Why don't you paint things like a blue sky, or a field of flowers, or a bird flying on a breeze? Something happy that your mom can put on the fridge. She can put these on the fridge, I said. Maybe just one flower? he asked. There are no flowers where I live, I said."

Year Read: 2023

Rating: 4/5

About: Cat has been stuck in School for as long as she can remember. The hallways slowly expand and contract with School's breathing, the showers run red with blood, and the students have divided themselves into changed and unchanged. While the unchanged hide in the fortress of administration, Cat and her friends haunt the courtyard and hallways. Her best friend is turning into cardboard, and Cat's face has become a cat mask made of her own hardened flesh. There are no doors or windows in or out of School, and something is hunting them down one by one in the hallways. To escape, Cat will have to understand why they're trapped in the first place. Trigger warnings: Some triggers are listed at the end of the review because they include spoilers. Character death, guns, violence, blood/gore, dismemberment, body/eye horror, bullying, slut-shaming, vandalism.

Thoughts: Thanks to @ninja-muse for recommending this book, since I'm not sure I would have found it on my own. This is probably my favorite Francesca Zappia novel to date, and one of the best novels on this subject I've ever read (more on that after the spoilers). However, I believe it's best to go into it not knowing much more than the description provides. This book works extremely well as a slow reveal. What starts out as a mindfuck becomes slow understanding as we realize more or less alongside Cat what is happening in School, and you'd be doing yourself a disservice to read the spoilers if you plan to read this. However, it covers a number of very heavy and potentially triggering topics (and it's difficult to gush about how I think it works without giving things away), so I'll include those thoughts at the end. I can't stress it enough though. If you're not easily triggered, stop here and go read this book!

This is also one of the best examples of uncanny horror that I've read in a long time. Zappia expertly manages to capture the quality of a nightmare without sacrificing the continuity. School is creepy and semi-sentient, and the changes it brings about in half the students are a study in body horror. Perhaps even more terrifying are the parallels it draws to some very real life horrors such as bullying and, indeed, I found the flashback chapters of Cat's surfacing memories of her former life of being targeted, bullied, and slut-shamed at school more difficult to get through than the surreal scenes of hacked up bodies or bloody showers in School. Real life horror always affects me a lot more than the supernatural, and Katzenjammer does an excellent job of balancing both. The ending is cathartic and effective, and there's less of a plot twist than a sort of inevitable, dawning horror-- which is honestly the best kind.

SPOILERS SPOILERS SPOILERS. TURN BACK BEFORE IT'S TOO LATE.

Remember how I said that real life horror is always worse than the supernatural or the uncanny? I stand by that statement. Zappia draws such excellent parallels to real life in her uncanny School that it's almost impossible not to realize before Cat does that the traumatic event that put them there was a school shooting. I've read a couple YA novels that handled the subject fine, but I don't think any of them capture it as well as this one. We need something like the supernatural School and the horror of bodies changing in ways we can't explain to fully grasp the senseless horror of gun violence. Killing children makes no more sense than hallways that breathe or girls who turn into their cat masks. It takes Cat the entire novel to understand the horror and absurdity of what's been done to her and to accept it-- that there are reasons but not excuses, and that we will never know all of them. I cried a little at the end, but I think the real life horror of it is too big for tears. Instead, it's a feeling that will sit with me long after I've turned the last page.

[prodigiousvisions]

' i'll definitely save you, too ' kakania @ isolde

──── ⪩⪨ 𝐎𝐌𝐍𝐈𝐒𝐂𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑'𝐒 𝐕𝐈𝐄𝐖𝐏𝐎𝐈𝐍𝐓 (accepting). | @lightsmartyr

THE SPOTLIGHT THAT SHINES DOWN UPON ISOLDE IS NOT ONE THAT IS SHONE WITH THE EXPECTATION OF THOUSANDS OF ONLOOKERS BUT A SINGULAR WARMTH OF ONE INDIVIDUAL LOOKING BACK AT HER. There is no need to put up airs in this stuffy clinic of Kakania's, no, in fact, she is encouraged to shrug off the burdens weighing on her proper stature as folded hands rest gently upon her lap. But the tension persists - her gaze over Kakania's shoulders remains hollow; distant, as idle, loud thoughts of nothingness mixing with the discordant whispers of spectrals cut into the reality of murky dimness before her. Her ears ring and Isolde finds it difficult not to hide back into the comfort of the quiet hollows of her mind that she's personally carved out.

Hysteria... yes, maybe it was best to liken it to such worldly concepts. Perhaps then she would be assured that in Kakania's dutiful hands, Isolde would be able to be cured.

She breathes and it's much akin to inhaling a cloud of poison of her own making. (SUFFOCATION. Suffocating?) The tightness of her fastened corset beneath the silken dress stills her to the back of the chair; the invisible weight of books upon her head persists despite ridding of the appropriate etiquette training of a noble lady in her early childhood years. Such is the life of someone hailing from the Dittarsdorf bloodline. Talented eccentrics blurring the boundaries of life and death as they called upon the undead as muses, were they? Or accursed individuals acting as mere vessels of possession for artistic endeavors while unable to silence the voices of those who aimed to make contact? The imposter songstress believes that both, to a point, are true statements.

(It hurts - It hurts - It's too noisy - I can't breathe - I --!)

Yet, internal strife aside, Isolde remains put in her seat, unmoving. One may mistake the jewel of Vienna for a lifelike porcelain statue, unweathered yet representative of the people's affection. That is, if not for the fluttering of lashes above slow-moving orbs which only move to finally focus their attention on the doctor before her. How lovely the doctor was, this compassion of hers that would burn through the decrepit shadows, that blanketed void of darkness that Isolde would wear like the finest of jewels. But for once, Isolde feels hope reverb in her bosom. This ghastly carcass of hers - prone to fainting and all - is brought to life yet again once such pleasant words oozing of philanthropy are injected into the essence of her soul. Placebo? Maybe. However, if the good doctor says it, then it must be true.

"Doctor," pursed lips curl pleasantly, eerily at their edges - placid smile - manifestation of a newfound resolve budding at the swell of her chest, "I swear to you, I will repay this kindness that you've shown me time and time again and help aid you in reaching your righteous goals. And at that moment, I hope that you will smile deeply, from the bottom of your heart."

[disneyswiftpolls]

Vote for Ariel here (closes Friday, 10/29)

Submit song suggestions for upcoming heroine polls

Info Post with previous winners

Reasonings for each song suggestion below the cut:

"Call It What You Want" from Reputation

Belle is used to being judged by the townspeople, having been labeled as an outsider for *checks notes* reading too much and not wanting to marry the town's resident evil hunk. She doesn't care what they think about her and her love for the Beast. They can call it what they want to...

My castle crumbled overnight I brought a knife to a gunfight They took the crown, but it's alright All the liars are calling me one Nobody's heard from me for months I'm doing better than I ever was 'Cause my baby's fit like a daydream Walkin' with his head down, I'm the one he's walkin' to So call it what you want, yeah, call it what you want to My baby's fly like a jet stream High above the whole scene, loves me like I'm brand new So call it what you want, yeah, call it what you want to

"Hey Stephen" from Fearless (TV)

A song about looks being deceiving and seeing past them to the person inside? Kind of spot on for Belle.

Hey Stephen, I know looks can be deceiving But I know I saw a light in you And as we walked we would talk And I didn't say half the things I wanted to

"When Emma Falls in Love" from Speak Now (TV)

In the song, Emma is portrayed as a resilient and assertive woman who does not lose her sense of self when she falls in love. Whereas she has a powerful and transformative impact on the men who fall in love with her.

Also...I mean...every line of the chorus is describing Belle...

'Cause she's the kind of book that you can't put down Like if Cleopatra grew up in a small town And all the bad boys would be good boys If they only had a chance to love her And to tell you the truth, sometimes I wish I was her

"the lakes" from folklore

Belle's love for literature is one of her defining characteristics. Aesthetically, all of the literary references in this song are perfect for her. Thematically, the song is about "eccentric and odd artists" who created their own community to escape from the heckling and judgement of others--escaping with the thing/person that was most important to them.

Take me to the lakes where all the poets went to die I don't belong, and my beloved, neither do you Those Windermere peaks look like a perfect place to cry I'm setting off, but not without my muse I want auroras and sad prose I want to watch wisteria grow right over my bare feet 'Cause I haven't moved in years And I want you right here A red rose grew up out of ice frozen ground